Wide Open Spaces (Shooting Stars 2)

Swallowing down the cool liquid, I let out a sigh. When I got home from work, Hunter was already at the house, and like he’s done since the first day I started work and he started camp, he told me excitedly about his day. He told me about the salmon he caught, and how tomorrow they were learning how to smoke the meat for jerky that he would get to bring home when it was done. Then he asked if he could spend the night with Fin and go to camp with him in the morning. Fin and his family were having a cookout at the river, and he wanted to go along.

After I said yes, I could see how happy he was, so it sucked that I had to confront him about keeping important messages from me. When I sat him down and asked him about why he didn’t tell me about the calls, I didn’t expect him to get as upset as he got. He was visibly shaken as he told me he missed his friends and his dad, but wanted to stay with me. He explained that his dad told him about getting a lawyer and that Hunter would soon be moving back to Seattle to live with him. He thought that if I didn’t know what was going on, that it wouldn’t happen and he could stay where he wanted to be. It killed me to know that the choice wouldn’t be his or mine. That some person with no real understanding of the situation would get to decide what would happen to us.

Taking another chug from the wine bottle, I lean my head back and look up at the sky that is slowly turning dusky, and wish that Gramps was still alive. He would tell me everything is going to be okay or find a way to make it all right for me. Even now, I can’t believe he’s gone. In my mind, I really thought he would be alive forever. I built him up in my head as some kind of superhero who defied time. I wish I hadn’t thought like that. I wish I would’ve remembered he was just a man and that his time on earth was limited, just like everyone else’s.

If I had remembered, I would have done so much differently. I would have made sure he knew how much I loved him and appreciated him. Four years ago, when things started to deteriorate between Max and me, Gramps moved to Florida and bought a place close to the beach. He told me he was tired of the cold and snow in Alaska, but I know he did it so I would have a place to go when I finally put an end to the lie he and I knew I was living.

It was a month before he passed away that I talked to him and told him that I asked Max for a divorce, and that as soon as the divorce was final, Hunter and I were going to move to Florida into the same building he lived in. He was sad for Hunter, but knew the situation well enough to understand that Max and I were doing more harm than good staying together for the sake of staying together. Three days after the last time I spoke to him, I got a call from one of his neighbors telling me that there were newspapers piling up outside his door and that he wasn’t answering. I knew then that he was gone. I knew I was too late.

I remember trying to call him over and over, but he never answered. Eventually, I called the police and explained I was in Seattle and had no way of checking on him myself. The officer I was connected with told me that he would look into it. It wasn’t until four hours later that I got the call I had been dreading, the call letting me know the only man who had never let me down, never left me, was gone. He had a heart attack and died in his sleep.

“Bad day?” I don’t jump when Zach’s voice breaks into my reprieve. My body is completely relaxed from the alcohol I’ve consumed, but I do tilt my eyes toward him.

“Pretty much.” I lift the bottle to my mouth and take another mouthful, swallowing it down.

“Wanna talk abou

t it?” he asks.

I lift my head and try to focus on him. “Do you happen to know of a cheap, like, really, really, really, really cheap lawyer?”

His eyebrows scrunch in confusion. “Why do you need a lawyer?” he growls, and my eyes focus on his, as I correct, “A cheap lawyer.”

“Okay, why do you need a cheap lawyer?”

“The usual. My ex is trying to get custody of Hunter, because there was a bear in the house, like I invited the stupid bear in to be with us.” I pause, then drunkenly mumble to myself, “What kind of idiot does he think I am? I would never invite a bear into the house.”

“What the fuck?”

“Right?” I sigh, leaning my head back to take another swig of wine.

“Where’s Hunter?”

“At a sleepover,” I murmur, focusing on the sky once more.

“Right. Go in and open the front door.”

“What?” I frown.

“Go in and open the front door,” he repeats, and my eyes move to him.

“For what?”

“I’m coming over.”

“You’re not coming over.” I sit up quickly, and almost fall out of my chair in the process.

“Go open the door, Shelby,” he commands, and my eyes narrow as I hiss back, “No.”

“Fine,” he mutters, and I start to relax back into my seat then tense when he takes a step back from the railing, puts his hands to the top, and swings his body over, landing on my deck feet first almost silently. I thought the decks between our houses were pretty close, but until then I didn’t realize just how close they were.

“I can’t believe you just did that,” I mumble, in complete shock.

“Now, let’s talk.”

“Zach.”

“Talk to me,” he demands, pulling one of the other chairs up in front of mine, and takes a seat facing forward with his elbows to his knees.